Family
by MLaw
Summary: I realized I needed a further backstory for Illya and his family. This goes back to the beginning, visiting the family as it grows during a tumultuous time. #1 in the Illya series, now in Chronological order. This will be like my Snapshot Series, with stand alone chapters. 'Family' covers in greater depth the details of 'Beginnings', the first Illya backstory written by me.
1. Chapter 1

It was 1933 and the height of the great famine called the _Holodomor,_ not a natural disaster, but a man-made starvation that had its beginnings four years earlier, with many Ukrainian farmers, known for their independence, refusing to join the collective farms. That was to be the way of the world under Josef Stalin.

He introduced a policy of class warfare in the countryside in order to break down their resistance to collectivization. The more successful farmers, called _kurkuls,_ were branded as the enemy, and brutal enforcement by regular troops and secret police were used to destroy them as a class.

Millions fell victim to Stalin's policies, and over the period of collectivization armed brigades confiscated land, livestock and other property; evicting entire families. Ukrainians were dragged from their homes, packed into freight trains, and shipped to remote areas in Siberia where they were left, often without food or shelter.

The Soviet government increased Ukraine's production quotas, ensuring they could not be met. Starvation became widespread. A decree had been implemented that called for the arrest or execution of anyone found taking as little as a few stalks of wheat or any possible food item from the fields where they worked.

Thousands of peasants were executed by the secret police, known as the NKVD, for refusing to join collective farms and were buried throughout the Bykivnia forest.

The famine decimated the villages and towns. Eventually, the city dwellers lived in fear, dreading the night when a 'Black Maria'... a police van, would pull up beside their building and take someone away. Families kept vigil at prison walls, NKVD offices, and even begged Stalin himself to help them find their kin, but to no avail.

Somehow the small red dacha the Kuryakin family called home survived this hell. They had already weathered the deportation of Count Alexander Sergeivich Kuryakin to the gulag called Solovki. It was far away in Solovetsky Islands in the White Sea. He was taken away from them when they were evicted from their stately home in the city of Kyiv,

From there their they took refuge in their dacha that had been boarded up by the Bolsheviks. Time passed and it became safe for them to take down the boards, and repair their new home, they deemed themselves lucky to have it while so many others were suffering.

Alexander's wife, Marina Ivanova Ursari-Kuryakina was devastated at the loss of her husband, and there was little she could do about it but write letters inquiring about him.

She even sent a few to a friend in America, a man who had been for a brief time the Ambassador to the Tsar, and had became Alexander's friend. He wrote back to her, telling her he'd try to help, but in truth there was nothing he could do. The U.S. Government had broken off diplomatic relations with Russia shortly after the Bolshevik Party seized power from the Tsarist regime after the October Revolution, despite the secret support certain influential Americans had given the Party.

Nicholaí Alexandrovich, Alexander and Marina's son was now the head of the family and worked on one of the farming collectives, trying desperately to keep them alive and safe, that included his wife Tatiana, and son Dimitry.

Nicholaí was never caught, though he managed to smuggle a few seeds here and there, tucking them into the cuffs of his pants. At home, once the warm weather arrived they would start a small garden, hidden behind their isolated dacha.

They survived the winter, sometimes barely. Famine food... the weed loaf made from cheap cornmeal, wheat chaff, dried nettle leaves and other weeds, was the essence of life during the horrific winter and early spring in Ukraine.

Marina kneaded the ingredients into a dull green mass, adding water and a little salt; fashioning it into a patty. It was called bread but barely fit the description. Once ready she spread wax shavings on a pan to keep it from sticking and burning and placed it in the cast iron oven. She took the bread from the oven when it was ready and it was a welcome feast, though it was tough and tasted like grass. Thanks to this 'weed loaf', and horsehide she'd cut into pieces and boiled for soup, they managed from day to day.

Sometimes Nicholaí was able to hunt in the forest and that would supplement their meagre diet. He had to be careful venturing out into the forest of Bykivnia to do so, lest he be caught by the secret police.

Marina once walked alone to Kyiv to see if she could obtain something more to eat for her family; exchanging a pair of ruby earrings and a gold cross she wore around her neck for about 2kg of flour.

They preserved what foods they did not eat, and more seeds; hiding them in a root cellar dug deep into the cold ground beneath the dacha. Access to it was through a trap door beneath a pot bellied stove in the kitchen and it could only be lifted with two pieces of sturdy wood. Still the trapdoor wasn't evident as Nicholaí was a skilled carpenter, and made sure the wood flooring fit tightly together.

Somehow the dacha and Kuryakin's were ignored, perhaps because they were not part of any village. The nearest neighbor Mrs. Greshchenkov and her son lived miles away.

Military blockades had been erected around many of the villages, preventing food being transported into them, as well as the hungry from leaving in search of from other regions were brought in to sweep through them and confiscate hidden grain, and eventually any and all food from the farmer's homes. Their resistance to joining the collective would mean their deaths.

Stalin stated of Ukraine that 'the national question is in essence a rural question.' He and his commanders were determined to teach a lesson through famine and to ultimately deal a crushing blow to Ukraine's rural population; the backbone of the country.

They would be forced into subservience, or death; the latter of which Josef Stalin apparently preferred.

Many fell victim to his policies and over the period of collectivization armed brigades forcibly confiscated land, livestock and other properties, evicting entire families. Ukrainians were dragged from their homes, packed into freight trains, and shipped to remote areas in Siberia where they were left without food or shelter to die and be forgotten.

In September of 1933, a pregnant Tanya Kuryakina gave birth to her second son who they named Illya Nickovich. The boy's name was chosen by Nicholaí. whose childhood friend Elijah had once saved his life. He made a vow to name one of his sons after his friend to honor his heroism. Illya was the Russian version of the name Elijah, a Jewish name...

The baby was very small, and Tanya was concerned her lack of nutritious food during the pregnancy would cause him to be weak and sickly, but he was anything but that. He was strong despite his size, and had quite an appetite. She had just finished nursing him and put Illya to sleep in a basket at her feet.

Marina had just finished baking a real loaf of bread, and the smell of it cooling was mouthwatering. If Nicholaí had not caught something while hunting, the bread would be supper for all of them, that and a thin vegetable broth.

There came a noise at the back door leading to the kitchen and Nicholaí tramped through it with his young son Dimitry not far behind him. He'd been teaching the boy how to hunt, even though he was but a child. The boy was tall like his father and seemed to easily take to the ways of the forest.

"Look Mama, Baba! We have rabbits!" Dimitry shouted with delight.

"Shush, Dima, you will wake your brother," Tanya hushed him. When she looked down at her little boy, she saw that Illya was already awake; smiling at him, he stroked his soft hair, which she was happy was blond like her's. Illya was a very serious baby and rarely smiled, but he had very expressive and beautiful blue eyes.

His grandmother said he was a thinker, and seemed to listen intently to everything.

"This one is going to be very smart," she said. "My brother Vanya must do a reading for him someday."

Marina was gypsy by birth, and her brother Ivan Ivanovich Ursari was the leader of their small tribe. He was a wise man and someday, according to gypsy custom his daughter Anastasia and Illya might become betrothed when they came of age. Illya's parents, weren't quite sure about that though...

Marina clapped her hands, spying the rabbits in Nicholai's hands, though she clicked her tongue at he and Dimitry having tracked in mud onto the floor.

"Mama it is Spring and mud is everywhere," her son protested.

"Next time scrape your boots Kolya! Now let me have those _kroliki._ They will make a fine stew! When you have cleaned up yourself, move the stove and I will get a few carrots and potatoes from the root cellar. We will eat well for the next few days thanks to you."

"Thanks to Dimitry," Nicholaí boasted. "He bagged them himself and took but one shot each. Not bad for a little boy, enh?" He tousled his son's auburn hair; pleased the boy was very much like him.

Dimitry beamed with pride. He knelt at the basket, making funny faces at Illya, and that made child smile at last.

"When you are older little brother, I will teach you how to hunt and you will be a great shot with a gun. Papa and I will see to that."

Illya laughed.

"Listen Mama, Illyusha laughed at me."

"That is because he loves you and liked what you said. I think he can not wait to grow up and be just like his big brother."

"Would you like that Illya?" Dima whispered to him.

"Da da da da...daaa," the little blond babbled. He was holding on tight to a small wooden bear his father had carved for him.

"See he says yes," Dimitry laughed. "You will be the best with a gun little brother, and I will be so proud of you."

Little did he know how prophetic a statement that would be...


	2. Chapter 2

When Ekaterina Nikolaevna Kuryakin was being born, young Illya being ever curious, tried to peek inside his parent's bedroom where the birthing was in progress.

His mother was there along with his Babushka and another woman who was called midwife, though he didn't know who she was or why she was there in the bedroom.

He thought it odd that a strange woman was in the room where his parents slept.

Tanya, his mother was moaning and every once in awhile she would cry out in pain. That frightened him and he kept trying to come inside to see what was wrong.

His Baba would shoo him away, telling him to go outside and play but instead of obeying, Illya hid himself in the shadows and as the midwife lady went back and forth getting hot water; the door was finally left ajar.

Illya of course, looked inside the room.

He heard the woman give some orders.

"You need to bear down Tatiana."

Illya watched as his Baba helped his mother sit up, and lean forward. She wiped Mama's perspired brow, telling her it was time to push.

"Push Tanya, and do not forget to breathe."

Mama groaned."I am pushing woman! Where is my husband...this is all his fault! Why must women do this? We do all the work while they... _ohhhhhh!"_

Illya was afraid when his mother cried out, and wondered what it was that she was blaming Papa for?

"Do not argue girl, now push again!"Baba's voice seemed harsh.

Mama groaned once more and then there was silence that seemed to last forever. Illya felt panic grow inside him; was his mama dead?

Suddenly he heard something that sounded like a fox, or was it an owl? What could an animal be doing in his parent's bedroom, and why did he not hear his mother. Yet now there was laughter. What was going on?

Illya had enough and burst through the door.

"What have you done to my mama!" He shouted, and began to cry when he spotted a bloody sheet.

His grandmother took hold of him, enveloping him in her arms.

"Illyushenka... _Illyusha_ everything is fine. Your mother is fine, come." His grandmother's voice was gentle and assuring. She lifted him into her arms, carrying him over to the bed where his mother was sitting up.

Mama was holding something in her arms, something wrapped in a white blanket and she was smiling at it.

"See boy, your mother is fine."

"I was scared Baba," he sniffled."I thought some animals had hurt her...where did the animals go?"

Tanya laughed." No animals. Come look."

Illya snuggled up next to his mother, peeking in at the little pink face that was poking through the blanket.

"What is it Mama, a doll?"

"This is your new baby sister. She was just born."

"A baby sister? I have a baby sister?" He looked at her with fascination, smiling as the baby yawned and made little squeaks.

"Can I touch her?"

"May I touch her," his mother corrected,"and yes you may but be gentle."

He reached out with only his finger, carefully stroking the baby's cheek. Unexpectedly a tiny hand reached out from within the blanket and took hold of his finger, grasping it tightly.

"She is very strong. Can she come play with me?"

"No Illyusha, not just yet. She had to grow a little more before she can do that."

"I think she likes me." He nodded very seriously.

"Yes she does, but I think maybe she loves you."

"How can she love me; she does not know me?"

"She knows you are her brother. That is why she took your finger to say hello."

"I love her too then."

"And so you should. You are her big brother Illya, and you need to watch out for her."

He thought for a moment, pursing his lips. "Like Dimitry watches out for me?"

"Yes exactly."

"Mama, where did my baby sister come from?"

She smiled again, and reaching over, Tanya ran her fingers through his very blond hair. "That is a story for another time. Now you need to go downstairs, Mama is very tired."

"Does my sister have a name?" Illya asked.

"Ekaterina Nikolaevna."

"Mama that is a very long name."

"You may call her Katiya."

"Hello Katiya. I am your brother Illya,"he whispered.

Katiya gave him a smile.

"Look Mama, she smiled at me, but she has no teeth?"

"Yes she did, and her teeth will come in I promise you."

"Illya you must leave now," his babushka said. "Your mother must rest as well as your sister. It is very hard work being born."

"All right," he sulked just a little."May I come back later to visit?"

"Yes, you may. Now off with you boy." His Baba ushered him to the door and closed it after him.

Nicholaí was coming up the stairs at that moment.

"Papa!" Illya called out."There is a baby and she is my sister. Her name is Ekat...Ekat...Katiya Nikolaevna. I am a big brother now!"

"A girl?" His father beamed. "That is very exciting news Illya, now time to go downstairs. You may tell your brother about your new sister."

"Babushka said mama needs to rest."

"I know, and I will only be a minute. Wait downstairs and I will be there shortly."

"Yes Papa!" Illya hurried down the stairs, excited to make the announcement about the baby.

Finally Nicholaí came downstairs, finding both his sons waiting for him.

"So what do you think of having a baby sister?" He asked.

Dimitry shrugged, "It is all right I suppose, but a brother would have been better."

Kolya laughed at that answer; so typical of a boy to say such a thing. He himself never knew the joy of having a brother or a sister as he was an only child, and one who grew up for the most part without a father.

"And you Illya what do you think of her?"

"I like her, and mama said Katiya can play with me when she gets bigger. How long will that take Papa?"

"Oh it will take a while I am afraid." Kolya poured himself a glass of tea from the brass samovar set on a table in the corner of the kitchen.

"Papa?"

"Yes Illya?"

"I asked mama where my sister came from but she said that was a story for another time. Do you know? Will you tell me?"

His father scratched his head for a moment; caught off guard. Illya was too young for the truth, other than chickens laying eggs the boy had never an animal giving birth. He supposed a little white lie of a story wouldn't hurt and would satisfy his ever curious son.

"All right Illyusha I will tell you the story of where babies come from...

" _Once upon a time there was an old man and his wife, who had no children, no grandchildren at all. One feast day they went outside and watched other people's children making snowmen and throwing snowballs at one another._

 _The old man picked up a snowball and said to his wife,_

' _If only you and I had a little daughter as white and chubby as this, wife!'_

 _The old woman looked at the snowball, shook her head and said, "Well, we do not and there is no getting one now, so there!'_

 _But the old man took the snowball into the cottage, lay it in a pot, covered it with a piece of cloth and placed it on the window-sill. For it was a wise fox who once told him to do this. When the sun rose, it warmed the pot and the snow inside began to melt. Suddenly the old couple heard a lisping sound in the pot under the piece of cloth. They ran up to take a look, and there in the pot lay a little girl, as white and chubby as a snowball._

' _I am Little Snow Girl, rolled from the snow of spring, warmed and browned by the sun of spring,' she said to them._

 _The man and his wife were beside themselves with joy. They took her out, and the old woman began sewing her some pretty clothes, while the old man wrapped her in a towel, rocked her and sang this lullaby._

 _Sleep, Little Snow Girl, sleep,_

 _Our tasty bun so sweet,_

 _Rolled from the snow of spring,_

 _Warmed by the sun of spring._

 _We'll give you drink a-plenty,_

 _We'll give you food galore,_

 _And make you such a pretty dress_

 _And teach you four times four._

 _So Little Snow Girl grew up, a joy to the old couple._

"And that is where babies come from,"Kolya winked. He waited for a reaction but it seemed Illya had to think things out, as he always did.

The boy finally spoke. "That makes sense to me as I saw the lady called midwife bring pots of water into your bedroom and I heard what sounded like a fox or an owl but now I know it must have been a fox, I think."

Nicholaí was pleased with the boy's reasoning, and relieved his son was accepting the story for now, at least enough to satisfy his curiosity.

"But Papa," Dimitry protested,"that is not where…"

"Hush boy. That story was for your brother, _understand_?"

"Yes sir." Dimitry had been in the forest enough with his father to see the miracle of birth among the animals, but his father telling his little brother a made up story would do he supposed. If the school master had heard such a frivolous and ignorant story coming from one of the students, they would get a sound beating with a strop.

Still Illya was too young for school and maybe by then he would know the truth of where a baby comes from. What did it matter? Illya would eventually learn the harsh reality of life and most likely end up being trained for a dull position as a teacher someday, given he was so bright. He didn't think his brother would be destined for a farming collective.

Dimitry had already been told he would someday work in a job involving forestry, which suited him just fine.

Poor Papa would still do his carpentry and work on the farming collective for a pittance. Still he was part of the system working for the good of the masses. That was what Dimitry was taught in school. For all the teachings extolling the virtues of 'the party,' it seemed to him that none of it did help the masses, at least not where the Kuryakin family and their neighbors were concerned.

He watched his father, day after day, struggling to make ends meet in order to care for his family, which now included another mouth to feed, and a girl no less. What could a girl do to contribute to their survival? She couldn't hunt, or chop firewood. She could only help in the kitchen, but how ward was that?

Dimitry had heard of children selling themselves, their bodies for a morsel of food. Would his sister someday be resigned to that, or worked to death in a factory for little money once papa and mama were gone? He might be sent away to work, as would Illya; then who would take care of her?

If Katiya had been a boy, her chances he thought, would be much better at living long enough to grow up.


	3. Chapter 3

Weeks later when it was deemed safe, the family traveled into the city of Kyiv; their destination the cobbled street of the Andriyivskyy Descent, taking it to the top of the of Starokyivskaya Hill. St. Andrew's Church stood there, rising above the Podil neighborhood with its slopes looking down to the Dnieper river.

Traditionally the mother returned to the Church after a time of recovery from giving birth , she was welcomed back into the parish with the prayer asking God cleanse her from every sin and impurity, and that coming to the Holy Church, she might partake without condemnation of the Holy Mysteries... partaking of Communion that is understood as the primary mark of membership in the Church.

Yet because of the edicts of the new government, there would simply be the baptism of the child and nothing more. The Communists did not like religion and had all but banned the practice of it. One by one the great churches were closed, and converted to something else or even destroyed.

It hadn't happened to St. Andrews but sooner or later it would. The priests would be arrested and sent to the gulag, never to be seen again, like Alexander Kuryakin. It was inevitable. Still there were a brave few who refused give up going to the church, and would sneak to pray, even though there were no formal services. The Kuryakins were still loyal to St. Andrews.

Inside the church was dark, with only candles lighting up the golden-red iconostasis that rose above the altar. The wooden partition with tiers of painted icons of the saints, separated the altar from the rest of the church, rising high into the air and beside it was the white and gold Baroque style pulpit.

There were only a few baptisms now, and marriages. The celebration of the Holy Supper at Christmas, and the resurrection at holy Easter were the only times people dared to gather, though they did it in the basement of the church for fear of being seen.

But not this time, for the Kuryakin's devotion to the Church their baby would be baptized in the font beneath the iconostasis, in the view of all the saintly portraits and the beauty that was St. Andrews.

The priest with his long beard and black robes welcomed them into the church with prayers.

Illya had only been to church for Christmas and Easter and didn't know this priest, but he was fascinated by his flowing black robes. His head was like it was on a swivel as he studied his surrounding.

Baptism was a rite of entry into the Church, so the opening prayers were done at the back of the church as part of a formal and literal entrance into the church.

After surrendering Katiya to Mrs. Greshchenkov, Dimitry and his grandmother, Tanya and Kolya stepped outside as the parents were not to be present for the baptism. Illya remained inside as he'd latched onto his grandmother's skirt and wouldn't let go. The church frightened him, yet he was not frightened enough not to watch what would take place.

After the opening proclamation and litany, Katiya was anointed with oil. In ancient times oil was used as a salve to cover wounds, protecting them so that they could heal faster. The anointing with the 'Oil of Gladness' was a symbol of baptism as an act which healed the broken relationship with God.

Turning back to face the east to symbolize the Light of Christ, Katiya and her sponsors, Dimitry and Mrs. Greshchenkov accepted Jesus as King and as God. They sealed their acceptance by repeating the words of the Creed, outlining the Church's basic beliefs about God, Church, and salvation.

" _I believe in one God, the Father Almighty of heaven and earth and of all things visible and invisible;_

 _And in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the Only-begotten Son of God, begotten of the Father before all ages;_

 _Light of Light, true God of true God, begotten not created, being of one essence with the Father, by Whom all things were made…"_

LIttle Illya didn't know all the words but he blessed himself as did the others, and clasped his hands together as he'd been taught, looking quite angelic with his blond hair and beautiful blue eyes.

His babushka smiled at him and winked as was being such a well behaved boy.

The baptism began with the exorcism prayers; the priest calling upon the Holy Spirit to expel Satan and all his fallen angels from the presence of the child who was to be baptized. He blew on Katiya crosswise three times to symbolize the power of the Holy Spirit; the Hebrew and Greek words for spirit also meant 'breath.'

After the exorcism the sponsors, Dimitry and Mrs. Greshchenkov, turned to face the west ...the back of the church. West was symbolic of darkness since the sun set in the west. Through this movement the devil, the lord of darkness was confronted and rejected, along with all his works, all his worship, all his angels.

The priest took Katiya in his arms and unwrapping her blanket and white dress, she was anointed with holy oil and immersed in the baptismal font.

Illya became quite upset when Katiya began to cry.

"Do not worry child," his grandmother whispered."She is just saying hello to God. Because she is so little, she must call out very loudly."

The priest spoke these words. " _In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Entering the font, you joins Christ in His burial; coming up out of it you take part in Christ's resurrection from the tomb. Katiya Nicholaevna you are born again into a new life in Christ Jesus."_

Illya had been told to keep quiet and just listen, and he did so hiding behind his grandmother's skirt, but peeked out to watch the ceremony.

He listened carefully as the priest prayed for his sister, asking God to increase her, sanctify her, render her chaste and endow her with good understanding and that she might be numbered among Christ's Chosen.

The priest wrapped Katiya in a white cloth called a _kryshma, the Robe of Radiance_ made by Mrs. Greshchenkov; that was another symbol of Christ.

He said the words of St. Paul, " _all of those who have been baptized in Christ have been robed in Christ."_

The priest held Katiya the newly-baptized infant in his arms and standing before the Royal Gates of the altar, he dedicated her to God. As he returned the child to Tanya and Nicholaí who came back inside.

He chanted the hymn of the Righteous Symeon, who had been promised by God that he would not die until he had seen the Messiah. "Now let Your servant depart in peace, O Master, for my eyes have seen Your salvation, which You prepared before the face of all peoples... All of those who are baptised in Christ share in His death and resurrection."

"Welcome into the church Katiya Nicholaevna!"

The Kuryakins gave him two loaves of bread and a bottle of homemade potato vodka as the traditional payment. The priests of St. Andrews depended solely upon the charity of others, so it was very much welcome.

The family bid their farewells. In the past such an event would have called for a feast in their home, but Tanya and Kolya decided against it. It was safer not to invite anyone to the dacha or to advertise the fact they had their daughter baptized in a church.

So in a private celebration in honor of Katiya's baptism, they stopped at one of the small restaurants opened near the Andriyivskyy Descent. Kolya had saved enough coin for this special treat, knowing it was going to happen. It was a luxury but he felt his family deserved something special for all they had gone through, and simply as a welcome to their newest child.

He'd started doing extra carpentry work right after his wife had become pregnant. Tanya tried fighting him on it, saying the money should go for more important things, but her husband would hear nothing of it.

As soon as they entered the restaurant, the mouth watering scent of the food cooking made them all instantly hungry and thoughts of not doing this left Tanya's head.

The owner, a woman who was Russian, came over and offered them glasses of tea, reciting her menu for the day. It was limited and more Russian than Ukrainian but that didn't really matter.

The meal consisted of four courses starting with a serving of zakuski which were like an appetizer. There were pirozhki, pickled tomatoes, beets, cucumbers, mushrooms, deviled eggs and hard cheeses along with small slices of rye bread.

Both Dimitry and Illya's eyes went wide when they saw the portions as well as the different foods brought to their table. Neither of them had ever seen the like since they were accustomed to a more spartan diet.

The first course of borscht arrived followed by the second which was beef stroganoff. The third course was kvass, a fermented beverage commonly made from regular rye bread. Illya and Dimitry were given cups of hot cocoa, neither of which the boys had ever tasted.

"It is not often we see families here, mostly workers," the owner whose name was Natalia, said to them.

"We are celebrating the arrival of newest member of our family, my daughter Katiya," Nicholaí said.

Tanya held up the baby for the woman to see her.

"Ah were you to St. Andrews to see the old priest Father Kostyantyn?"

"Ugh, no we were not," Kolya lied. He dare not let on they had been there, as one never knew whose ears were listening.

"That's all right," Natalia said. "You do not have to say. I will bring you a special dessert for your celebration."

When it was time the woman presented them with a cake beautifully decorated with white icing and colorful flowers that were made of icing as well. It had two airy layers of meringue with hazelnuts, chocolate glaze, and a buttercream-like filling.

Everyone watched in amazement as Illya and Dima stuffed themselves, and even Natalia remarked about it, especially with Illya.

"He is so little and skinny; where does he put it all?"

Tanya laughed. "He has always been that way."

"Well you have raised yourself two fine healthy boys, good luck to you and with your new daughter," Natalia leaned forward, whispering after she's looked left and right.

"God bless them all."

She stood up, as a few more customers had come in; workers from the look of it as she said.

Nicholaí paid the bill, and was pleasantly surprised that the proprietress had not charged them that much, for which he was grateful, but still she needed to make her money and he thought it only right to question it.

"Excuse me Madame, but I think you made a mistake with this?"He pointed to the cheque.

"No it is fine and here, take this. A gift for you and your family on the occasion of your daughter's birth." Natalia handed them a basket, the contents of which were covered by a serviette.

Nicholaí didn't want to insult her by refusing, and thanked her, wishing her a good day and good fortune.

Once outside Tanya peeked under the napkin and found more of the delicious cake, some candied fruit and a jar containing mixed pickled zakuski.

As they walked home, Babushka asked her grandsons what they thought of everything that happened today.

Dimitry as usual, shrugged his shoulders, Illya on the other hand wished he could have another baby sister.

"Why, you are not even used to this one yet?" Marina asked.

"Well if I have another sister then we can go to that restaurant again and eat more of that wonderful food."

Nicholaí shook his head, rolling his eyes as he heard what his youngest son had said, still it made him smile.

"Illya my boy, that was not the important thing that happened today. Today your sister was baptized into the church and her immortal soul was saved from Satan."

"Oh. Was I baptized Papa? I do not remember it."

'Yes you were but sadly there were no restaurants to go to, nor money to pay for any celebration when you were baptized," Kolya said. "It is important that you do not tell anyone about what happened today,There are people who do not like the Church, nor do they believe in God. They would punish those who do."

"They would hurt Katiya for being baptized...me too?"

"Yes they would. So do I have your word Illyusha to keep this a secret?" The boy was getting tired and was scooped up into his father's arms

"Yes I promise Papa," he said with a yawn. Illya closed his eyes and dreamt of the delicious cake he'd eaten.


	4. Chapter 4

Illya Kuryakin grew to be that smart boy his babushka had predicted he would be.

He had been quick to talk and was constantly asking questions while following around his mother, father and brother Dimitry, but mostly his grandmother.

She would tell him stories and legends, while his brother would tell him of the forest.

"See Illyusha, moss grows on the northern side of a tree," Dimitry pointed out to his little brother. They weren't far away from the dacha as their mother forbade them to wander. Illya was too young, as was Dima to go off into the forest on their own. Though the eldest Kuryakin boy was a bit headstrong and thought he could manage it.

There came one day when both boys decided to disobey their mother, though they planned to only do it a little bit.

As Dimitry walked along with his brother following him, he talked of the forest and all the wood lore he knew about tracking and finding your way around.

Dimitry was in fact quite learned for a twelve year old, and his six year old brother hung on every word he said.

Illya was crazy about his big brother, and Dimitry knew it, and he loved his little brother as well. They had a sister now, little Katiya Nikolaevna, and as much as Illya adored Dima, he adored their sister even more.

The two of them seemed to have a special bond, and she made him laugh. The serious little blond child that Illya was changed when he would play with his little auburn- haired Katiya.

She loved Illya too and in her simple baby talk she would communicate with him and he seemed to understand her.

Marina said the boy had a gift for languages, even baby talk, she laughed. He was nearly fluent in French, German, Ukrainian and Russian though she never ceased tutoring him. He seemed to remember everything, he'd read it, and that never ceased to amaze her. Truly God had gifted the boy with some very special abilities, and Marina would see they were well honed.

She hoped some day when the world was a better place, her grandson would grow up to be something more than a farmer, perhaps a teacher or a leader of men.

Dimitry would be tied to the forest, that's where his heart lay, and always would. There was nothing wrong with that.

Illya continued to wander along with his brother; Dima now pointing out the flowers telling his brother their names and if they were good for anything like settling an upset stomach, or treating a wound.

That was knowledge their mother had taught him as she was wise in the ways of healing herbs and flowers gleaned from the fields and forest.

"Let us rest for a bit little brother, then it is time we return home. Mama will be angry with us if she finds out where we have been."

Dimitry leaned back against a tree, and Illya sat beside him. He was not as talkative as his brother, preferring to listen and take everything in, absorbing and remembering it all.

He wasn't tired and as Dima closed his eyes and fell asleep; Illya decided to pick some flowers for their mother, just in case they were caught disobeying her. The flowers would make her smile and perhaps would keep her from being too angry at them.

He spotted some bluish ones growing along the edge of the woods. Barvinok, his mother once called them, a sort of periwinkle. She said it was a symbol of eternity and of being, as well as a harbinger of Spring.

He remembered reading from a book. _.'Halya carried water from the well to the house. Ivanko, like a blooming periwinkle, followed her…Barvinok, periwinkle, help bring Ivanko back — I'll take a good care of him, Like I've been taking care of you…"_

Illya continued to wander, plucking flower after flower, filling his arms with them, and thinking his mother would indeed smile at the sight of them.

Dimitry woke from his nap, realizing immediately his brother was not beside him.

"Illyusha? Illya?" He called, but there was no answer. "ILLYA!" This time he shouted but still nothing.

Panic rose in his throat.

"Calm yourself _durak._ Look for his tracks," Dima told himself.

He spotted the small footprints, and following them he found a trail of barvinok. His brother must be picking flowers for their mother; that was the way Illya thought as he was very clever.

Dimitry continued to follow the trail, though the footprints were becoming harder to see, and the barvinok were no longer being dropped by his brother.

The sun was setting and there was still no sign of his little Illya. If he lost him, Dima knew he was in for it, though he was sure the boy was smart and could survive a night in the woods. Still their parents would be angry he'd taken Illya into the forest by himself, even if it had only been to the edge of the woods.

The light was fading, and Dimitry knew he had to go home and face his parents. His father would already be there, returned from working; papa had been building new shutters for someone who lived many miles away and he would be tired from the work and traveling on foot.

Nicholaí had to carry all his tools with them in a wooden chest slung from a strap over his shoulder. Dima had once tried to pick it up but it was too heavy for him to lift.

It was not his father's anger he feared though, but his mother's and his babushka's.

Their voices would cut through him like a knife, and he feared it more than the beating he would get from his father' that was once papa returned home after finding Illya.

Dimitry walked slowly up the steps leading to the back door of the dacha, his hat in his hands as he tried to put together the words to tell what he'd done. He was not smart like his little brother, and words failed him at times, unless he was talking about forest lore and animals.

He opened the door slowly, spying his family sitting at the table as they were preparing to eat supper.

Dimitry's eyes went wide when he spotted his brother there, and behind him on the counter was a small bouquet of barvinok.

"And where have you been young man?" His mother demanded." I was beginning to worry about you, thinking you had gone into the forest again...look, are these flowers not beautiful? Your little brother gathered them for me, though I _know_ they grow near the woods."

"We did not go into the woods mama," Illya piped up, telling a boldfaced lie. "These were growing in the field behind our home and Dima showed them to me. Did you have a nice nap in the field brother?"

"Ummm, yes, though it was much longer than I planned little brother."

"Ohhh," Tanya nodded, knowing her boys were lying to her. Yet somehow, the way they were sticking up for each other pulled at her heart. She knew her sons loved each other dearly to risk her wrath and their father's belt.

"Dimitry, go wash your hands as we are ready to eat."

"Yes Mama," he looked at his brother, seeing Illya wink at him.

After a dinner of venison stew with vegetables and brown bread, the family retreated to the sitting room where Nicholaí softly played his concertina for them.

Once evening prayers were said, everyone went to bed and Illya and Dimitry lay in the darkness of their room, finally able to talk to each other.

"Illya, why did you wander off? Did you not know how dangerous that was to do?"

"Sorry Dima, I was busy thinking about picking the barvinok for mama. They made her smile."

"I am sure they did, but if anything happened to you she would have been crying and I would have been in big trouble."

"Sorry, I did not think of that. Will you still take me into the forest and teach me more?"

"Only if you promise not to wander off again Illyusha. I got scared when I couldn't find you; I know you are smart and could have probably survived the night alone out there. Still there are many dangers, and people, bad people, wandering in Bykivnia. They say there are graves there, many accused of crimes and buried by the secret police. Would you want to end up buried here in the forest where no one would ever find you? We would never know what happened to you."

"Dima I saw periwinkles growing near some big mounds, but I stayed away from them. I think they were those graves, and I remembered barvinok growing at a grave were there to conjure up the image of the dead. Do you think God put them there so those people would be remembered?"

"That I do not know little brother, but it was good you stayed away from those mounds if they were indeed graves.."  
 **  
**"Dima, you asked what would happen if the secret police found me and I ended up buried in the forest... would that not be true for you too?"

Dimitry paused, thinking his brother had made a good point.

"Yes, you are right. So I promise you I will not go into the woods by myself, and you promise me too that you will not wander off or go by yourself again either."

"I promise,"Illya yawned. He'd told a white lie to his brother as he'd gone to the mounds, and there he felt compelled to leave most of the flowers he'd gathered.

He said a little prayer, asking God to take their souls of those buried there to heaven and to give comfort to the families they left behind. It seemed the right thing to do.

"Now go to sleep little brother." Dimitry yawned. "I am tired, no more talking."

"Mmm, yes Dima."

Illya fell fast asleep, and he dreamt rather vividly of people standing around him in the forest. He knew none of them with their pale faces; their eyes darkened and lifeless. At first he was frightened, but then he saw a little girl in a red dress. Her golden hair was pleated in braids and she smiled at him, holding out the blue flowers he'd left in the forest.

" _Spasibo Illyusha,_ " her voice echoed, as if riding on the wind and it disappeared into the rustling of the leaves on the trees. Her image faded away.

Illya woke with a start. It was morning already, and the sun was shining brightly through his bedroom window.

He rubbed his eyes as he lay there. The boy's thoughts went to his dream and decided he had done the right thing, leaving the flowers there at the grave and praying.

Someone needed to remember the dead, and his dream told him they knew what he'd done for them.


	5. Chapter 5

Illya was quite little physically when he was sent to school, though he was slightly younger than his other fellow students. It was because of his intelligence; he'd been tested and found superior for a child of his age.

For Dimitry it was a return to school as they'd been closed for some time. until at last, one by one the schools were allowed to reopen, though how things would be taught would be very different from what he'd been used to..

His old teacher and most of the other instructors had somehow disappeared; he suspected they'd been taken by the NKVD to the forest and executed there, along with so many other innocents.

The new teachers were all party approved and were determined to turn the children of Ukraine into loyal party members.

He made a point of warning his little brother not to open his mouth about anything that might set off his teachers; it was something that probably hadn't changed, the elder Kuryakin boy suspected. Illya wasn't fresh at home, but he had no fear of speaking out or about questioning something.

Both boys had long since been told of their grandfather and had been cautioned about discussing their heritage as far as Alexander Kuryakin was concerned. Nobility was not respected, it was looked upon with disdain and resentment by the masses. Dimitry didn't remember his grandfather at all but had been told the Count was a good and generous man.

It seemed his classmates and teachers felt otherwise as they knew who his grandfather was.

In the early days of school both Dimitry and Illya were taunted and beat up; both boys coming home fat-lipped and frustrated.

They were told to turn the other cheek.

"What good would that do?" Dimitry sat one day with his little brother; both of them hiding beneath the half-finished stone wall behind the dacha.

"Baba says it is the Christian way," Illya said.

"They say in school that there is no God Illya, and maybe they are right. Why would God let people suffer so, why would He let all those people have been taken to the forest and killed? What kind of God does that, can you tell me? There was no God helping us when we were nearly starving before you were born!" His anger caught in his throat.

"Dima you better not let mama, papa and baba hear you talk like that."

"I do not care anymore. There is no God little brother, of that I am sure our teachers are right. You better learn to accept that and become a good little comrade. Things are changing, times are changing. The Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic will grow in might and prosper. We will be a valuable part of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. I plan to grow and prosper as well."

"Dima is it wise to believe everything you hear in school? They refuse to teach the Ukrainian language though we live in Ukraine."

"Illya we are Russian."

"And we are Ukrainian and Rom as well."

"Little brother you must never tell anyone that. The Communists do not like gypsies. What if our family disappeared because someone found out about it? Bad enough they know about grandfather. Promise me you will say nothing about our Romani blood?"

"I promise Dima," Illya bowed his head. He loved his brother dearly but there was much anger in him, and this willingness to follow everything he was told outside the family was perhaps like a sheep being led to slaughter. He couldn't say anything to his parents or grandmother as these talks with his brother were private...Illya couldn't betray Dimitry's confidence.

The boys went to school together but because of their age they were in different classes and rarely saw each other until the end of the day.

Illya seemed to be suffering more as time past. He had a double strike against him in the eyes of his classmates, except for a few of them. He was the grandson of a nobleman, and was just too smart to suit them. The fact that he was younger than the rest of his classmates didn't sit well with them either.

Illya was slightly built, smaller than other children his age and for that reason he became an easy target of the class bullies. They resented him, his intelligence and his bloodline and they made no bones about telling him as they knocked him to the ground day after day.

Sometimes he was merely tripped, other times he was shoved as they taunted him with derogatory comments and slurs.

There was one day when they called Illya's mother a slut who slept with anything with a _khuy_ between his legs and that had done it.

Illya charged at them like a little raging bull, bowling the three boys over, and landing atop one of them, and that unfortunate boy he began to pummel with his little fists

Eventually he was pulled off the him and they rose, but instead of fighting, the others scuttled away in retreat.

Dimitry heard about his brother's skuffle and as they walked home, he draped a supportive arm over Illya's shoulder.

"So you finally defended yourself little brother and one against three? I am impressed. What happened to turning of the other cheek?"

"I did not defend myself Dima; I was defending mama as they called her a filthy name. I will not turn the cheek when it comes to defending others, especially someone who was not there to defend herself."

Dimitry smiled. "I think our family would forgive you for an act with such noble intentions Illyusha, still I think it best we not say anything to them just in case."

"Would mama not be proud I defended her honor?"

"I am sure she would, but you know how she does not like fighting. She has enough to deal with little Katiya around, and now that she is expecting twins, well why upset her?"

"You are very smart Dima," Illya nodded seriously.

"No little brother it is you who are smart the smart one, but I only hope I am wise?"

"Are they not the same?"

"No Illya. Smart is like you with your books who reads and might go to school for many years. Yet many people like that, not you I mean, also do not understand worldly things. Some of them pretend that they do."

"Yes Dima, wisdom is a deeper thing; how to use book smarts is perhaps a deeper knowing and the beginning of wisdom. There are many kinds of smart people who are wise as well."

"Yes Illya but knowing is not just about memorization or doing good on tests. You are right, there are many kinds of smart people. Some with a talents to write and play music, or write books, or think great thoughts."

Illya stopped, taking a moment to look his brother in the eye.

"Dimitry, you _are_ smart by your own definition. The way you can read the forest for tracking, the animals and the weather and you have the wisdom to use your knowledge. Not all knowledge comes from books.

"I never thought of it that way little brother."

"I only hope someday to be like you," Illya took hold of his brother's hand and started walking again, giving Dimitry a tug. "Now come on, I am hungry. Baba said she was baking potato babka for us."

"Illya, you are thinking with your stomach now," Dimitry laughed.

"Nothing wrong with that is there?"

"I supposed not. Seems you are both smart and wise."

"Dimitry did you know that most of the children in the west of Ukraine do not go to school? Papa told me, and he said they will not teach our language anymore."

"Yes I know. At least we speak it and Russian too so we are already ahead of most of our other classmates, which I suppose is another reason they are they are jealous of us."

"I do not want to think about them anymore Dima. I want to think about the babka."

"You Illyushenka, have a one track mind."


	6. Chapter 6

The gathering was small at St. Andrew's Church in Kyiv. Many of the church members were afraid to go there, given the Soviet edicts against the practicing of religion. It was only a matter of time before this church like so many others would be closed and who knew what would happen to the priests.

This Easter Sunday there was no procession of the faithful outside the church for fear of drawing attention or no joyous sounding of the bells ringing out. Perhaps like the early Christians, the people of Kyiv were marking Easter in secret, and in hiding to escape persecution from the State.

This was a major holiday in the Orthodox religious calendar, and for that reason, the service would be held above, inside the beautiful church and not hidden from prying eyes in the basement.

Those in attendance and the things they brought with them were blessed in reverence with holy water as the service began.

The gathering was small, though the Kuryakin family was there faithfully, without fear. Their beliefs were strong. Today Nicholaí, his wife Tatianya, his mother Marina and the children stood together to celebrate _Paskha_ as it was called in Russian and in Ukrainian, Easter was called _Velykden_.

Dimitry the eldest, and his brother Illya helped with their sister Katiya and the twins Alexander and Michail...called Sasha and Misha who were born only five months ago. It wasn't until the weather had eased, did the boys receive their baptism in this very church.

For many people this holiday started with Father Demya, the Orthodox priest, blessing the traditional Easter cake called kulichi and the painted Easter Eggs called pysanky that decorated with intricate patterns and bright colors.

There was also the blessing of the baskets that everyone brought. They each contained a round loaf of bread sometimes decorated with religious symbols made out of dough, potato babka... pysanky as well as krashanky which were simply colored eggs.

There were supposed to be different types of meats in the baskets, though for many that was in short supply.

Marina Kuryakina made sure they at least had _kovbasa_ sausage in theirs along with horseradish mixed with grated beets. There was cheese, and _maslo_ which was butter sculpted into the shape of a lamb. Salt, herbs and pickled garden vegetables were included as well. Illya was quite proud as he help his Baba make that little lamb, but he also liked being able to link his fingers covered in the sweet butter.

Lastly, a decorated beeswax candle went into the basket and would be lit for the feast after the services, which were quite long.

Young Illya was getting tired as was Katiya; they'd all been at the church on Saturday and were up early on Sunday for the sunrise because it was believed to give people an extra measure of happiness and health to see it rise on this holy day. After that the family again made the long trek into the city for Easter Sunday

At least they had a carriage for the twins; Illya and Katiya got to ride in a small donkey cart. Doing that two days in a row was a great treat in and of itself for the children, though tiring. Still, Illya managed to keep his little sister amused for the entire ride.

But now in church, with the smell of the incense and the droning prayers, he looked up at the blue white and gold ceiling and at the images of the saints who surrounded him while his eyes grew heavy. It was a long ceremony and he couldn't help but yawn.

Illya managed to keep himself awake if only because his stomach grumbled its protest at not having had his breakfast. He whispered to Katiya as she began to fuss.

"It is almost over little sister. Then we will eat."

"Shushh," Tanya hushed him, tousling his nearly white blond hair.

Father Demya finally greeted the congregation, repeating many times over, "Christ is risen!" and the people replied in chorus "Indeed He is risen!"

Everyone exchanged a triple kiss, the _Khrystosuvanni._ Illya made a face when he was grabbed and kissed by a girl standing nearby, as he didn't like it. She handed him an Easter egg, which some people did for the _Khrystosuvanni._ That he supposed made up for the kiss as n Easter egg that you got was kept at home as a treasure because it was considered to be a thing possessing a great spiritual power.

"Get used to it little brother as someday I think all the girls will be chasing you," Dimitry whispered as he to gave Illya a triple kiss as well.

That, young Illya didn't mind as it was his big brother after all, nor did he mind it from any other members of his family. He didn't care much for strangers kissing him, and there were very few people he knew here at the church.

The last thing Father Demya saw to was the opening of the central gate of the beautiful iconostasis, separating the altar from the nave. It would remain open for several days, from Easter Sunday until the following Sunday.

Sadly though after the celebration the church would be vacant, except for the priests. It was not always wise to have regular services, and when they would be held, word was spread among only the faithful, lest the wrong ears heard about it. Maybe they were like the early Christians after all, though none of them was in any hurry to become a martyr.

Holy week had been a period of self-denial and abstinence from all meat, poultry and their byproducts. In some families, eggs, cheese, milk, butter and even fish were not allowed. Given the food shortages in Ukraine, thanks to Stalin, abstinence wasn't a problem for many.

The Kuryakin's, because of their hard work of Nicholaí, his wife, mother along with the planting of a garden and digging of a root cellar helped them get them through the harsh winter. They were blessed to have the days of starvation, 'weed loaves' and boiled animal hides used to make soup long behind them...for now.

They had a milk cow, the donkey, chickens and had recently acquired a pair of goats from Marina's friend Mrs. Greschenkov. In return they'd given her a fair number of chicks which were now grown. Eggs, milk and cheese were in good supply and there were enough chickens to slaughter in order to make soup and round out their meals.

Being religious the Kuryakin family observed abstinence, though the children were not made to do needed to be kept healthy and strong as life could easily take a turn for the worse; one never knew, especially with the rumors of war with Germany looming on the horizon.

Nicholaí, when having a drink or two with some of his neighbors, heard that Stalin had signed a sort of agreement with Adolph Hitler, stating the Nazis would not invade the Soviet Union, though for some reason the senior Kuryakin had his doubts.

Holy week had been busy as well, as before Holy Thursday, the commemoration of Christ's passion, everything had to be cleaned.

In the past that included included whitewashing walls inside and outside but that simply could not happen as it was near impossible to find the lime and chalk needed to make whitewash. Still gardens were planted, clothing made ready for Sunday Mass, _pysanky_ made, all the cooking and baking done and children to be bathed and scrubbed, because after Holy Thursday, no work was performed.

Instead, attention was paid to religious services and last-minute touches around the home like putting out embroidered linens and so on. It was a time of renewal and rebirth. It was spring, when all would be made anew. Life had gotten a little better, and the family had made it through another harsh winter, that alone was something for which to be thankful and to celebrate

The Kuryakin household was always clean and tidy despite the best efforts of Illya and his sister tracking the spring mud inside, as well as feathers and droppings from the chicken coop. After cleaning it, Illya would invariably let a chicken get out, on purpose of course; he and Katiya would chase it as a game until it was caught.

Still their mother and grandmother were forgiving when the children would bring them a few white-pink chestnut blooms, and willow's earrings, making them forget their annoyance.

Illya liked playing with the fuzzy pussy willows as they felt like little flowers of fur, and they were so soft. He would take a small cutting and tickle Misha and Sasha with them, making them gurgle with laughter. Katiya would ask for him to tickle her too, and Illya so enjoyed making her laugh.

"Illie, more! Tickle more!" She would laugh until she couldn't talk, and her brother would laugh with her. His little sister was his delight and he loved her dearly.

The pussy willow branches the children gathered were preserved and were brought to church to be blessed on Palm Sunday in place of palms, which weren't unavailable.

.

After the Easter service concluded,, the contents of the baskets everyone brought were shared there at the church for breakfast; breaking the Lenten fasts. The candles were placed in the middle of the table and lit, symbolizing the light of the Christ risen.

These baskets of food were a blessing to some who did not always have enough. Nicholaí cautioned his family not to eat too much and let the bounty be more for the others who were less fortunate.

That did not go unnoticed by Father Demya and the other priests.

"Let the little ones eat Nicholaí," they whispered."You have a long walk home; let them do so with a full belly."

He allowed them each a hard boiled egg, a piece of _Paska_ bread and sausage. The rest he insisted be left for those who were more hungry.

"God go with you Nicholaí Alexaevich," Father Demya blessed him for his generosity. Extra bread, eggs, cheese, sausage and other things had been brought just for the priests as they relied on the generosity of others for their food.

The Kuryakins returned to their spotless little red dacha on the outskirts of the city where they had their own Easter feast in readiness. Food would be left on the table for everyone to nibble on as they saw fit and to give the women of the house a chance to rest and enjoy the holiday.

Food had been prepared ahead of time and their special meal would consist of pickled zakuski for starters, stuffed cabbage, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffed dumplings, hot vegetables, as well as cheeses and breads. There was meringue and Marina had made _Syrnyk,_ a sweet Ukranian Easter cheesecake, as well as cookies; all decadent delights that were a rarity indeed. It was thanks to her dealing and scraping at the Yevbaz bazaar in the city; she managed to gather and save enough precious sugar for the special baking.

During the day people traditionally visited relatives and closest friends and presented them with Easter baskets filled with _kulichi_ breads and _pysanky,_ with their perceived spiritual power, but the only family who was visited by the Kuryakins was Mrs. Greschenkov and her son Pavlo; the boy was just a bit older than Dimitry.

After visiting Mrs. Greschenkov who gratefully accepted the basket brought to her, she gifted the Kuryakins with her own painted pysanky, and poppy seed buns for their table.

Now days, it was not wise to let too many people know what you had as there were those who would rob you and let your family go hungry. The Kuryakins were charitable but not stupid… They had no family to visit, and no one would come to them.

Mrs. Greschenkov's basket was filled with enough for a good Easter meal for she and her son and in return she wished many blessings upon the Kuryakins for their generosity.

When the family returned home, all was in readiness and, after reading prayers pertaining to the occasion, they sat down at table laden with food,

The table,covered with white table cloth, and at the place of honor on there was set a bowl of p _ysanky_ along with a lit candle that had been burning during the entire Easter week. In Ukraine the sun rising on Easter morning was giving out a particularly cheerful light, and all the windows on the eastern side were opened and the curtains pulled back to let the sunshine in.

Finally all was in readiness and the family, after saying their prayers of thanks, they sat down to eat.

Illyal wanted to eat his dessert first, but his mother insisted he eat the stuffed cabbage and sausages, then he was free to pick at whatever he wanted.

He and his siblings ate well and laughed at the stories they were told by their babushka, though the legends told by papa were more serious.

Nicholaí spoke of the time when the faithful left the church during the Easter service to go around it several times and then return to go back in again, Angels of the Lord raised the Saviour from the Sepulchre and the Saints came down from the sacred icons on which they are depicted and all of them exchanged the triple kisses as salutation and expression of fraternal love.

But since they were unable to perform the ritual at the church, the Kuryakins did so at their house.

Sitting on the mantle were several holy icons, the blessed Mother and Iisus, Michail, Archangel of the heavens and the warrior purported to pass judgment on all souls when Christ returned to an earthly form,...he was the protector of Kyiv, its patron Saint, as well an icon of Saint Andrey, the patron Saint of Ukraine. It was they the family looked to for protection. Illya tried to envision them all coming down and giving the triple kiss to each other.

Nicholaí told another story that took place right after the Resurrection the Saviour. Beelzebub... the Satan, and head of all the devils was put into a deep underground pit, beneath the rock in which Iisus' tomb was.

He ordered Beelzebub to gnaw at 12 iron chains into which he was cast, at 12 iron doors and at 12 padlocks on the doors. If Beelzebub bit through all of the doors, all the padlocks and all of the chains before the Velykden, then the end of the world will come. In the twelve months from Easter to Easter the Evil One ate his way through all of it except one last link in the last chain. At the moment when the devil was about to pounce on this last link Easter chanting begins.

"Christ is risen!" and everything, all the chains, doors and padlocks became whole again as it was before the Satan had begun his gnawing effort. So, if people stopped chanting "Christ is risen!" on Easter, then the end of the world would come. So you see children," Kolya said."This must never be allowed to happen, no matter what your teachers tell you, what Stalin and his thugs say. Do you understand?"

Illya sat wide eyed, listening to his father. "Yes papa." He gravely nodded. Katiya parroted her brother's reply, though she was too young to really understand.

.

The warmth and safety of their home was disturbed when there was a loud knock at the door.

Nicholaí immediately grabbed his gun before he approached it. There was no one they would be expecting on this day even though Easter was a day to visit. They had no relatives, or close enough friends other than Mrs. Greschenkov.

"Who is there?" Kolya called out.

"It is me Pavlo sir."

The door was opened to find the boy standing on the steps, red faced and breathless. Nicholaí waved the boy inside as traditionally you never spoke to someone standing in a doorway.

"Is something wrong? Is your mother all right?"

"Yes sir," Pavlo caught his breath." She sent me to tell you as she heard this news on our radio. Stalin has agreed to supply grain and raw materials to Germany in a new trade treaty. So this means we will be safe from Herr Hitler, da?"

"One could only hope boy. Now come in break bread with us, have some tea."

"No thank you sir. I must get back to my mother. She wanted me to come tell you the news right away."

"Tell her thank you Pavlo."

Nicholaí closed and bolted the door behind him. Turning to his wife; his face looked grave.

"It will only be a matter of time. I am sure Hitler has already set his sights on Poland, and then we will no doubt be next." He had an instinct about this, not trusting Stalin, nor the Germans as well to keep any sort of agreement. He'd heard too many stories about the Nazis already and the Ukraine well more than familiar with Joseph Stalin and his duplicitous ways. If it came down to it, he would abandon Ukraine to the Nazis when the invaded, and they would invade. Of that Nicholí Kuryakin was sure.

Tanya quickly hushed her husband as she spotted Illya peeking around the corner at them. The boy was very good at spying though at times it could be unnerving.

"Child, go eat your dessert while papa and I talk."

"Who is this Herr Hitler Pavlo was talking about Mama?"

"None of your business, now off with your or I will send you to bed without amy sweets."

That made the young Kuryakin disappear in the blink of an eye.

"It is time the boy learned what is going on,"Nicholaí said.

"Not yet Kolya. Let him have his childhood just a bit longer, Dimitry too." Tatiyana wrapped her arms around her husband's waist and he intern cocooned her in his arms; stroking her long blonde hair with his hand.

"We had best start stocking up on our food as best we can," he whispered."I fear the bad times are coming again now with Stalin agreeing to supply the Germans. They will lay waste to the store in this country but that will put the Germans off for only so long. War will be upon us whether we try to avoid it or not."

Illya had disappeared out view but not out of earshot. He heard what his father had said, and that made him decide perhaps it was best to pass on his dessert so it could be saved.

Not that he knew about such things, but it seemed like a good idea at the moment.


End file.
